


The Strength in Letting Go

by tryslora



Series: Unending [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Dubious Consent, M/M, PWP, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:12:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco helps when Harry is nervous before being sworn in as Head Auror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Strength in Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> JK Rowling owns the characters and world of Harry Potter; I just like to write here. No infringement is intended.

Draco found Harry in the men’s washroom, hands gripping the white porcelain sink tightly as his head hung down. His dress robes were wrinkled, and as Draco watched, Harry’s shoulders shook and he bent further forward, losing what was left in his stomach.

Thin lips pursed, and with a quick swish of his wand, Draco locked the doors. “Really,” he drawled. “Is this how the Head of the Auror Division behaves before speaking in public?”

Harry didn’t even look up. “Bad shellfish,” he muttered.

“Don’t lie.” Draco’s tone was smooth and flat, a tone of reprimand hinted at in the swiftness of each word. He stood next to Harry, one hand twisting in the back of his robe, tugging him upright. The pull against the fabric made the robes gap open, and Draco saw the twist of chain against Harry’s throat, the colors of Slytherin and Gryffindor combined. He curled his fingers against the front of Harry’s throat, pulling him back against Draco, fingers pressing into both chain and skin, holding tight. “Never lie to me.”

He felt when Harry eased against him, and Draco’s touch eased as well, one arm wrapping around Harry, the hand at his throat tilting Harry’s head back so Draco could nip at the side of it. A shudder for every nip, a hint more relaxation. “Good,” Draco murmured. “Take out your wand. Clean up that mess, and your breath.”

A moment’s hesitation, then Harry did as he asked, casting a _scourgify_ on the sink and a charm for breath on his mouth.

Draco murmured pleased sounds against his skin. “Nervous?” he whispered.

“Terrified,” Harry admitted. “Those folks elected me, and they’ve no idea who I am except that I won a war ten years ago. Wasn’t even my own bloody fault I won it. But no, they’ve decided that the ten year anniversary is a perfect bloody time to annoint me the youngest head of the Aurors ever. Now they’ll be watching me every day, waiting for me to arse it up.”

“You won’t,” Draco said plainly. “They’ve weathered a thousand things for you, Harry, including accepting me as your lover.” He found a small spot, just below the chain, on Harry’s shoulder and sucked at it, catching it with his teeth and twisting, bringing a red mark to the surface that would be hidden beneath Harry’s robes.

Harry groaned, pushing his bum back against Draco’s rising erection, then pulling away. “They don’t know the full truth of us.”

“They don’t need to.”

Harry hesitated, then nodded once slowly in agreement. “They don’t need to know the whole of it,” he said quietly.

No one needed to know that Draco _owned_ Harry. That at home, that in their bed, that any time they were in _private_ , Harry belonged to Draco and had promised to do as he said without question.  That Harry trusted Draco, heart, body and soul, and knew that Draco would never abuse what he had given him. 

But Draco knew all of this. He reached for Harry’s hands, placing them one at a time on the edge of the sink, close to the backsplash, so that Harry was bent at the waist. When Harry’s eyes widened, reflected in the mirror, staring at Draco’s reflection behind him, Draco merely arched one eyebrow. “The door is locked,” Draco said quietly. “Now to see if you dressed according to instruction.”

He lifted the edge of Harry’s robes, pulling them up to his waist, hands gliding up over his thighs to find him completely bare-arsed underneath. Draco pressed forward, forcing Harry’s thighs against the sink, bracing him there by Draco’s weight. Hands slipped forward, one under Harry’s balls, the other around his cock, still soft in Draco’s hand. “Good,” Draco murmured, teeth grazing Harry’s neck.

“Draco—” Harry pushed back, grunting when Draco shoved him back against the sink. “We can’t do this. I’m supposed to be speaking.”

The handle to the washroom jiggled, followed quickly by a pounding on the door. Draco’s fingers kept stroking Harry’s cock, squeezing gently, drawing it slowly to hardness. “Tell them you’ll be out shortly,” he ordered softly. “Tell them you need a moment to center yourself.”

When Harry hesitated, Draco squeezed his cock. “Tell them,” he repeated, a sharp nip accompanying the the order.

Another knock, and a call for Auror Potter, and Harry drew in a breath. “I’ll be out in a minute. Just—going over my notes.”

There was silence for a moment, the only sound the soft slide of skin over skin as Draco stroked Harry. Then: “I’ll tell them,” the intruder called, and footsteps headed back down the hallway.

“Draco, we _can’t_ do this. Not here, not now,” Harry protested. He pushed back, groaning when Draco grabbed his hands, putting them back on the sink.

“You need to be relaxed.” Draco worked one leg between Harry’s, wedging his apart, opening his arse for access. “I guarantee, you will be relaxed after this.” He opened Harry’s robes, letting them gap so that Harry’s chest was visible in the mirror. “Watch. And tell me, did you promise that you were mine?” Fingers drifted over the collar, then found the ring in Harry’s nipple, twisting it until Harry cried out.

“Yes,” Harry gasped, moaning.

“The door is locked,” Draco pointed out. He reached into his pocket for the lube, spilling some over his fingers, stroking it over the crease of Harry’s bum. “We are alone. Do you want me?” One eyebrow arched, grey eyes meeting green in the mirror.

“Yes.” The word was strangled. “But fuck—Draco. It’s not the time. Not the place.”

“You are _mine_.” Hips pressed forward, pushing into Harry, one finger pressing into his arse. “Are you not?”

“…I’m yours. Fuck, Draco, yes, I’m yours.”

Draco smiled. “And what is it that you want, Harry?”

“To… to relax.” Harry cried out again as Draco twisted a finger inside of him. “Oh, fuck, Draco…”

Draco gripped one of Harry’s hands, pressing it down against the sink hard, his body lying with full weight against Harry’s hip, trapping him. One finger fucked him slowly, then two, crooking inside of Harry to stroke just the right spot. “I’ve got you,” Draco murmured. He kissed the back of Harry’s neck where the chain was exposed, reminding him of their promise to each other. “Let go, love. I’ve got you, and I will always have you.”

He added a third finger, stroking deep, the pressure of his body not letting Harry thrust at all. “Give yourself to me,” he whispered. “Everything. All of you. Let go, and let me catch you. Can you do that for me, Harry? Can you come just from my fingers in your arse, fucking you just like this while you see it in the mirror? You’re close, aren’t you? And when you go out there, this is all you’ll be able to think about. You won’t care that they all look up to you, that they’re all depending on you. Because you _know_ that you’re not alone, and that when I get you home I will throw you on our bed and I will fuck you so hard you forget everything else. I’ll press you shoulders down, won’t let you fucking move if I don’t want you to. Your arse is mine, Harry. You have control over them, but I am the only one with control over you.”

His fingers pushed hard and fast into Harry, stroking that sweet spot before almost withdrawing and shoving into him again. Draco wouldn’t let up, wouldn’t let Harry have an ounce of control here. This was all to remind him who he belonged to. Who _owned_ him.

And when Harry came, Draco felt that sweet release, as Harry’s body clenched around him, then let go of every bit of tension. He caught his lover as he slumped forward. Draco pulled his fingers free and let Harry’s robes fall back down to cover him, a quick cleansing spell removing the sticky traces of what they’d been doing. But he knew Harry’s arse would ache with the memory of it, that he wouldn’t be able to forget.

Harry murmured as he turned so he could wind his arms around Draco, nuzzling close for a lazy kiss.

“Feeling better?” Draco asked.

“Much,” Harry admitted. “Thank you.”

Draco’s fingers caught Harry under the chin, tilting his head up and back, kissing him fleetingly. “Any time, love. I’m always happy to give you a chance to let go. Now, go give your speech. I’m looking forward to this being done so I won’t have to listen to you rehearsing constantly.”

Draco leaned against the sink, watching as Harry did up the front of his robes once more, a faint smirk lifting his lips. “Oh, and Harry?” He waited for Harry to glance at him. “When you’re done with the speech, meet me back here. I don’t think I want to wait until we get home.”

Green eyes flashed, and Draco smirked. He’d watch the speech—after all, he was proud of his lover, and intended to see him sworn in—but from the back of the room. Nothing was going to soothe his own tension but more time with Harry. At least Draco was sure Harry’s speech wouldn’t go on too long. After all, they both had something to look forward to.


End file.
